All for Naught
by Tache Noir
Summary: Francoeur undergoes a change for his angel, however is crushed when his love is unrequited. Is is his change really for nothing? Francoeur/ OC I do not own Monster in Paris.
1. To transform

All for Naught

~Flash-Back~

Francoeur didn't like the predicament that he was in. In fact, Mademoiselle Voleur and her slummy apartment scared the dickens out of him. The room he was in had a low ceiling and close walls that held in the smell of Mademoiselle's sour cigarette smoke. As he sat scrunched up in a too-small chair across from the spidery woman, it was all he could do not to gag and sputter. He didn't like the way the scratchy scarlet tablecloth rubbed against his fine burgundy suit or the way the dying overhead lamp buzzed in an effort to stay alive. It was all too much.

"So," Mademoiselle began, exhaling more wisps of smoke, "I hear thru grapevine you want to become human?" She cocked a threadbare eyebrow at him at the end of her question. Franc chirped in agreement.

"Ah, but you do know a transformation require an exchange, oui?"

No, he didn't know that, but he warbled as if he did. "Well, Madam hears you have a sweet singing voice, non? I think that that would be a proper payment for a species cross…"

Franc stopped listening to her for a moment. His voice? His voice that was almost angelic as Lucille's? Franc hung his head low. "…Are you ready?" Mademoiselles asked, drawing her cigarette from her tar stained lips. He nodded; it must be done. "Remove your shirt," she commanded and he did as he was told. At that moment the light bulb decided to kick the bucket; the room was now thick with smoke and dark. Franc sensed the old woman come up in front of him, however, was still jolted when a gnarled finger traced a cold, crude circle on his chest. Mademoiselle began to chant in an eerie, widow's voice:

"_From Carapace to Torso,_

_Chitin to skin,_

_Let sugary song stay bubbled in,_

_For a fortnight-14 days,_

_From Beast to Human,_

_Change."_

There was more than a slight pinch. Franc didn't realize that he'd closed his eyes until he saw a dim glow behind his eye lids. Madam had lit a candle- an old slumped over thing. She held a small vial in his face. It was filled with a greenish-goldish liquid; she swirled it and the color changed a little bit.

"Now, look at you! I'm surprised I got it right this time. Now, say something so I know I got perfect." "…B-Bonjour." His voice was hoarse and gruff; not at all soft and sweet as before. Mademoiselle smiled around her filthy cigarette. "Wonderful! Now, listen closely," she scooted nearer to Franc, "You will be human for two weeks. In that time, you must find your true love. If you do, you'll remain human and get your singing voice back. However, if you do not, then you will return to your previous state which is in this glass. Fair enough?"

Francoeur nodded. "Now, I'll keep this little vial here…" He watched as Mademoiselle Voleur tied the little glass around her wrinkled, hag's neck. "Bonne chance [good luck] to you ." With that, Franc found himself, fully suited, out on the sidewalk in a light drizzle. He was still over 7ft tall but as he looked down at what was once forelegs, he found two human arms and two human hands. "All for you, mon ange," he thought as he hurried back towards Lucille's townhouse.

~Present~

The sheets felt weird. They felt like soft and cold and warm and slightly scratchy. The ceiling also looked different-less detailed. Francoeur rolled over and then swung his new human legs over the side of his bed. The room swirled a little bit. After shaking the feeling off, he stepped over to his full length mirror. New fine eyebrows shot up. His face was narrow and had slick side burns where his mandibles would be. His hair was shaggy but smooth-it hung over his brow-and black enough to look navy blue. He leaned in and looked closer. His eyes were a peculiar shade of brown and red and orange-fiery. Other than being a human with hair and normal enough eyes, he was still the enormous size and shape that he was before. Tall with wide shoulders but muscular and lean.

"Francoeur? Bonne matin [good morning]…" There were three small raps on the door. "She can't see me yet!" Franc panicked and he quickly dove under his sheets. He feigned sleep. The door swung open and Lucille stepped in. She looked at the big lump in the covers and smiled to herself.

"Get up you, we've got rehearsals today after breakfast," Lucille chirped as she moved to throw open the curtains. "You'll never believe what happened at the dinner party last night…Speaking of which, where were you?..."

He heard Lucille come up to his side king sized bed and felt her small hand on the comforter. "Franc, seriously, wake up. You never lay in this…long…" The sentence evaporated from her tongue as she pulled the cover off of him. Franc looked up at her with nervous but fiery eyes. Lucille inhaled sharply and took several steps back, the coverlet still grasped firmly in her hand. "Franc, you…you're…" "Lucille, let me explain…" He started in his new, raspy voice, getting out of bed and reaching for her. Francoeur caught her as she fainted.

Lucille woke to a full room. Emile was huddled next to Maude, whispering something in her ear. Raoul stood facing a window; his arms were crossed and his back looked tense. Francoeur sat apart from everybody else-head hung, hands clasped, shoulders slumped. He fiddled with his fingers in his lap. "Like a big child," Lucille weakly thought as Raoul turned and caught sight of her.

"Lucille! How are you feeling?" He asked as he rushed to her side, reaching to clasp her hand. "I feel fine now. I was just…surprised," her brown eyes flicked over to Francoeur and then back to the expectant face of Raoul. "Yes, I can perfectly understand that," he looked over at the giant man in the corner. Emile and Maude also stared at Franc, with large and confused eyes.

"Franc, I think you better explain yourself.." Raoul began between clenched teeth. Francoeur raised his face a little but his eyes stayed glued to the floor.

"I-I, um, slipped away during the party, to get some air. And I, uh, was wondering around when I saw this poster for…" Franc peeked up at the surrounding faces and then dropped his eyes. "For what?" Raoul's voice sounded tense and on the verge of anger. Franc was confused at this. He'd done nothing wrong had he? What he did for Lucille had nothing to do with Raoul and Emile and Maude. However, he still felt ashamed for some reason.

"C-can I talk to Lucile alone, sil vou plais?" "Absolutely not! We're all your friends and we have a right to know!" Raoul shot back and was about to add more when Lucille stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "I will speak with him." Grumbling, Raoul followed Emile and Maude out of the room.

"Francoeur, you know you can tell me anything," Lucile began encouragingly. Franc moved from his perch in the corner to the bedside. His gloved hand reached for hers and she took it with friendly squeeze. From the squeeze he gained the power to tell his entire story from the wandering to the dim, dank room to the new feeling this morning. Through it all, Lucille kept quiet, nodding every now and again. At the end, she rubbed her forehead, contemplating it all.

"But your voice, Francoeur! Your lovely, angelic voice! Why would you give that away to be _human_?" Shoulders slumped, Franc sighed, "Because I love you." Both of her eyebrows shot up. Instantly, her mind began to rack through memories, searching for a hint of his feelings. Francoeur did treat her as if she was fragile and as if she were both queen and angel but she thought that was because she was the first person who treated him as a friend. "Pardonne moi?" Franc raised his eyes to hers, no-nonsense expression in place.

"I love you, Lucille. From the beginning, I have felt this beating in my chest. A beating that wasn't there when I was nothing. And this beating flutters every time you are near, quickens whenever you smile, and aches when you cry. It soars when you sing. Sometimes it beats so hard it feels as if it will burst in my chest. This beating is a heart you gave me, that you helped me find and I love, I love you. I could never tell you before but here I am now."

Tears sprang to Lucille's eyes as she listened to Francoeur's confession. Franc waited for a reply. What he did receive ,however, was the raising of her left hand. His eyes widened disbelievingly at the gold, diamond studded engagement ring on her finger. People had been proposed to before in cabaret and Lucille had gently explained the importance of it. "You missed the dinner party…" she whispered, tears filling her large brown eyes. Franc stumbled away from the bed, clutching at his chest. It hurt. It hurt so much, so much that he struggled for breath.

"But Lucille, I…all this..for you!" He fell back towards the window and flung it open. He needed to get out. The room swam around his eyes and the walls felt as if they were creeping in.

"Wait, Franc, don't go! Let me explain!" But Franc couldn't hear her over the sound of his crumbling heart, over the cacophony in his new man chest. He leapt from the window and into the mid-morning light…


	2. From the Belfry

**Hello, hello, hello! Sorry for the wait. Now without further adieu, I give you, chapter two! [didja dig that rhyme scheme? I know you did :D]**

Francoeur watched the slowly awakening city through blurry eyes. From his perch in the belfry of an old Catholic church, he could watch all the robotic Parisians going about their business. Why did their lives seem so perfect, so unaffected while his entire world was rocked by a hurricane? Why did they get to be happy? He sighed and angrily swiped the tears from his eyes.

This was Lucille's fault. It was her fault that she was so captivating, so angelic that he couldn't help but fall in love with her. It was also her fault that she was so blind. Was it really so hard to see that every little thing he did for her was a declaration of love? Every song, every dance, every gesture he made screamed "I Love You" but she was too deaf….too distracted by Raoul. That arrogant son of a…Francoeur took a few breaths to calm himself, his temper easing back into depression. Down below, the activity was dying down as people went to work. He stood, straightening his crumpled suit, and began to head down the belfry steps. Should he go back to the Rare Bird? Well, yes of course he had to. He couldn't just disappear; there where shows to do. How should he act around Lucille now?...Franc growled in frustration as he finally entered the main room of the church. A sound caught his attention and he paused. In one of the pews was a hunched figure, quietly whispering in prayer. Trying not to disturb the person, he shuffled along the wall, only to trip on an uneven stone. The figure jolted, looking up to see Franc sprawled out over a few now crooked pews.

"Are you ok, Monsieur?" The person asked in a soft feminine tone. She rose and was quickly beside him, helping him up. Compared to Franc, she was very petit but would be taller than Maude and slightly taller than Lucille. Her hands were small and slender in his as she steadied him. Franc sheepishly smiled down on her narrow, oval shaped face that was framed with dark-very dark- brown hair. It was in a loose bun.

"I did not mean to disturb you and yes, I'm ok," Francoeur replied, his new scratchy voice more hoarse than before. The woman giggled a little.

"It's fine, I was done anyway." The silence between them was odd but not uncomfortable. "I should be heading home," she finally said, looking at a small golden watch on her dainty wrist.

"May I walk you?" He asked, trying to be gentlemanly to make up for his earlier display. She nodded and took his arm as he offered it.

As they walked up the street quietly, Francoeur couldn't help but feel at ease with this girl. She didn't question his extreme height or his gruff voice. She just walked beside him as if it was the most natural thing to be walking with a giant. The air outside was warm and the sky was clear, a typical picture perfect day in Paris. Many people were out due to it being the lunch hour but the streets felt empty to Franc. It felt like it was only the two of them. Strange. He only felt like that with Lucille…

"Here we are," the girl said, stopping at a quaint little townhouse by a bakery, "Thank you for the walk…and the show earlier." There was a merry sparkle in her eye and a blush crept over his nose. He gave a little bow.

"You're welcome..." He didn't want her to go yet and he quickly looked around for some way to spend more time with her. Weird. He didn't even know her name yet. A delectable scent wafted its way into his nose. Perfect. "Would you like to get, uh… something from the bakery with me, Ms.?" His question came out awkwardly.

The girl cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "Only if you buy."

**Sorry for the brevity of this chapter. I just wanted to give you guys something, even if it is a little something. Thanks for the follows and any reviews!**


	3. Her name was

**Hello, my friends! Sorry about the non-updating, I'm really busy since the semester is almost over. Alas, I will make time for you guys ****!**

Her name was Marcel. Marcel de Réve. Francoeur smiled to himself as he floated down the street towards the cabaret. He'd had a wonderful time with her; he forgot that he had just been rejected only hours before. Maybe he could fall in love with her, she could be what Lucille failed to be. Her potential love could fulfill the spell and leave him human with an angelic voice. But…he paused in the middle of the sidewalk…but what if she wasn't his true love either. How would she take it if she found out that he was a giant flea in actuality? Not only would it ruin him, it'd ruin the Rare Bird. It'd ruin Lucille. A frown marred Franc's handsome face. He wished he had someone to talk to about this. Lucille and Raoul and everybody who knew he was a flea didn't like when he tried to interact with others ever since the deal with Maynott. They tried to keep him as low-key as possible. Francoeur huffed. The more he thought about it, the more he saw how controlling everyone was. They treated him like a child and he knew he would have no more of it…

Though Franc entered the restaurant quietly, Lucille somehow knew the he was there and was by his side instantly, pestering him with questions.

"Francoeur, where have you been? You had us worried sick, had _me_ worried sick! We could have talked this out and…" He stood silently through her interrogation until he politely shushed her. Lucille frowned, her brow creased. Francoeur _never_ interrupted her before…never. She was thoroughly surprised. "But Franc…"

"It is none of your concern." Franc turned away from the doe-eyed singer, making his way to the dressing room.

Lucille watched the broad man move away. She thought she understood what he was going through, but she didn't. She'd wanted him to come back to her and they'd return to the way they were before. Sighing, the brunette took a seat at one of the tables, her head in her hands. Why did Franc have to be so difficult? Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? Alone…Lucille didn't even know how Francoeur managed to sneak out that night during the party. Granted, she wasn't really paying attention but still. Tears formed in her eyes. A hand touched her shoulder.

"Franc..?"

Raoul scrunched his face up as he looked down on his fiancée. It somewhat sickened him how much she was worried about the flea…er…man when she was supposed to be excited over her upcoming wedding. Raoul worried a little too, however, he just figured Franc would come back. Eventually… But he did what he could to alleviate her stress, mainly giving a listening ear last night, instead of getting sleep. Lucille wiped some of the tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I thought Franc had come back to talk. He came in a few moments ago," she sniffed, shoulders sagging. Raoul's blood heated. How could Franc just leave her here, crying? The new man was becoming more and more akin to an irksome teen.

"I'll go talk to him," Raoul stated, smoothing his pompadour. He'd talk some sense into Franc, he'd stop all this. Lucille shook her head.

"He's upset still, just…just give him some time. We'll talk after tonight's show. Maybe he'll be better then…"

**Again, another shorty. Sorry :[ but thank you all for the follows and the reviews!**


	4. To Pry

** Bonjour mes amis! Man, since this semester is almost over, I've barely had any time to do anything! So my apologies. But alas, I return with…another chapter! I was feeling song-fic-ish today…**

Francoeur's fiery eyes sparkled as he noticed his new friend entire the cabaret just as the stage lights were dimming. Sure, she was a little bit late but Franc could forgive that. His gaze swept to Lucille, who had taken to the stage in her customary angel costume. On her signal, Franc began to strum a simple yet haunting melody, the rest of the band soon filling in. Feeling the rhythm, Lucille too joined in:

She is shaking  
She is shy  
While we are waiting for her message  
Constantly groping in her darkness  
Firefly came  
All expectations make her heart feel numb…

Franc sighed quietly from up in the band balcony. His heart felt numb. It felt sedated and frozen and not real. Still keeping up with the music, he searched the dining area for his guest. She was seated at a small couples table…alone. He watched her sip her wine- white wine, he noted- and watched her watch the stage. Marcel looked relaxed, her legs crossed in that way that highborn ladies crossed them. One of her small hands patted the table's edge in time with the music; her lips were quirked up in a satisfied smile. Suddenly, her eyes flicked up to him, a smirk playing on her face. Franc blushed, almost messing up the fingerings, and averted his gaze back to the stage.

She is dancing in her grass skirt  
While we are waiting for her silence  
Thunder and rain  
will weigh on her shelter  
Morning rise  
All expectations make her heart feel numb

From the stage, Lucille watched Francoeur blush deeply at some unseen occurrence. She wondered what the cause was as she effortlessly kept up with the song, all lyrics on point. Her brown eyes scanned through the crowd, eventually settling on a woman who was silently giggling. Who is that? Lucille inwardly frowned at the dark haired girl. Mentally taking note to ask Francoeur about it later, Lucille twirled into the song that made them famous," La Seine." Usually, the upbeat song made her feel energized, however tonight, she just felt…down. Maybe all the drama with her giant flea-turned-man _had_ over worked her nerves as Raoul had suggested.

Socializing after the show was the same as always. A drag. People greeted, gushed over the show, and promised to return as soon as possible. The same conversation over and over and over again. On the other hand, time passed by too quickly for Franc. He was by Marcel's side directly after the show, chatting with her as if they had known each other for ages. Lucille watched them, snickering and whispering together, from afar.

"Who is she?" Raoul asked, coming up behind Lucille and taking her hand. She shrugged, continuing to watch the…couple? Were they a couple? They sure acted like if and Lucille secretly fumed. How could Franc just move on like that, like he'd never even confessed any hidden feelings the night before? Crossing her arms, she rushed away from a confused Raoul, heading for the dressing room. She would get to the bottom of this.

The feeling in his chest could only be described as pure bliss. Happiness that had only been felt…once, maybe twice in his life. Franc glided into the dressing room on his high only to see the stone faced cabaret angel.

"Oh, uh, bonjour Lucille…" Franc began awkwardly. He moved to the piano and began to play a melody that had popped into in his mind while talking to Marcel. Lucille almost lost her train of thought as she listened to the warm, vibrant piece. But no…

"Francoeur, that was a wonderful show tonight. That new song was just trés magnifique! " she began. "I had something to tell you afterwards but I saw that you were busy with that girl...Who was that by the way? She was very pretty and she seemed so close to you…"

Franc's usually flawless skill wavered as he mashed a few out of tune keys. He turned slowly, head down, eyes raised in slight anger. He knew Lucille had watched him; he knew she would try to pry so he shot down her effort with, "Her name is Marcel de Réve and she is my friend. She is nothing more so do not attempt to pry into what is not your business. You have other things to worry about do you not?"

His eyes flashed to her ring and Lucille stifled a gasp behind her slender hand. She nodded in shock as Francoeur rose from the piano and took his leave.

**I hope you enjoyed this thrrrrilling update, lol. By the way, the song I used is called "Numb" by Oh Land. Thank you for all the reviews!**


	5. Nine Days Left

**My goodness. I am so sorry for not updating! It's been quite awhile hasn't it? Let me make it up to you with… a new chapter. Please keep in mind that I've added a little time lapse.**

It was a pretty day. Everything seemed to have a certain general cheeriness about it and it fed into Francoeur's mood. He walked with confident strides, hands loosely in his pockets and head held high. As per usual, he had spent another enjoyable afternoon with the chest-nut haired girl from church. The past few days had gone by in a sort of blur. Tense nightly performances with Lucille blurred into comfortable daily escapades with Marcel and Franc was beginning to lose track of his days. He'd adjusted well into his body- it was no longer foreign to him. In fact, he felt quite natural in a human body. However, the musical prodigy was loathe to tell Marcel that he was indeed not what he seemed.

How many days did he have left? Francoeur paused on the side walk, pondering his dilemma. The meeting with Madam Voleur seemed like it was ages ago…It'd only been five days. Five long but somehow fast days. That left him with nine days to find a true love. Francoeur sighed. With the shy yet friendly atmosphere between Marcel and him didn't seem conducive to any romance. At least, not to him. How would he be able to have her fall in love with him in nine days? He cursed the short time of fourteen days that Madam Voleur had given him. Shaking his head, he continued on his way back to the Rare Bird.

Upon his arrival, Franc found the dining area of the restaurant empty, which was perfectly fine by him. He made his way to the dressing room, removing his hat and loosening his ever-present scarf as he went. A melody was bubbling in his head and he wanted to test it out as soon as possible. The dark haired man hummed the tune. Entering the room, he found Lucille sitting at her mirror, running her finger over a little comb. The little notes that issued forth reminded him of when he was a giant, naïve flea. The nostalgic sigh that he emitted caused the brunette to look up at his reflection in the mirror's glass.

"Bonjour," she said quietly, setting the comb down and turning to him. A light smile graced her face and Franc fought the urge to make a crooning noise as he would've done as a flea. He smiled back.

"Bonjour."

Lucille watched him go to the piano, listening intently to the springy tone that the other was beginning to play. He'd been writing several new songs lately. She was sure that it was this "Marcel" person's fault. Francoeur had definitely changed…negatively in her eyes. He no longer sang to her or danced with her or wrote songs for her. He didn't accompany her on errands or make visits to people with her. Lucille couldn't help but be jealous as she watched her giant friend leave daily to see that girl. Lucille couldn't help but miss him. She cleared her throat.

"Francoeur? Pardonne moi."

He politely stopped playing and looked at her. The brunette took a card from the top if her vanity, presenting it to him.

"We've been invited to a socialite ball. The hosts want us to be part of the entertainment. According to this, it's in a few day's time. Everybody will be there. It'll be fun, don't you think?" Franc nodded and smiled again, before looking at his lap.

"Oui, that does sound fun. Is it ok if I bring a friend?"

Lucille hide a frown, automatically knowing to whom he was referring.

"Don't you think you spend enough with her already?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "You go out with her every day, Franc…"

He frowned, shrugging. Was it really so wrong to want to spend time with Marcel? He couldn't ignore the fact that she made him happy, now could he? Besides, he had to hurry up and get her to love him. Franc, however, could not tell this to Lucille. He was tired of arguing with her, tired of being tense….

**Boo, crappy chapter is crappy. Here is the reviewer vote thing-**

**Francoeur does argue and takes Marcel regardless of whatever Lucille says.**

**Francoeur doesn't argue and doesn't take Marcel. **

**Either way, I'll make some drama happen. Thanks guys!**


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